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1920 


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COnfRICHT DEPOSm 



SONGS AND SONNETS 

BY 

CHARLES R. LADD 



1920 
FIX &. MILLER 

BATAVIA, N. Y. 



^?J' 



Di 



JUL 12!920 



©Gi.A570644 



(O 



fr> 



TO 

J. M. M. 



Copyright 1920 
FIX & MILLER 

By C. R. L. 



CONTENTS 



Journey's End 


-. 


Song 


- 


- 


Sonnet 


- 


- 


Fragments - 


- 


I. 


Italy 


- 


II. 


Sunset 


- 


III. 


Love 


- 


IV. 


Corpora Casta 


- 


V. 


Thea 


- 


Song 


- 


-. 


April 


. 


- 


Eve 


- 


- 


Song 


- 


- 


Said Corydon 


- 


Sonnets 


- 


- 


I. 


A Woman 


- 


II. 


March 


- 


III. 


Sleep 


- 


IV. 


Integer Vitae 


- 


V. 


Loss 


- 


VI. 


Evening and Morning-Star 


VII. 


All a Summer's 


Day 


VIII 


. Primordia 


- 


IX. 


Springtide 


- 


Sonnets From the Seven Hills 


I. 


lo sognai 


- 


II. 


Non richezza 


- 



7 
8 
9 
10 
11 
12 
13 
14 
15 
16 
17 
18 
19 
20 
21 
22 
23 
24 
26 
27 
28 
29 
30 
31 
32 
33 
34 



III. Fa sospendirmi ... - - 35 

IV. Mai si bella la terra . . . _ - 3t) 

V. O tu! quando saresti partita - - - - 37 

VI. La sua cara figura tremulosa - - - - 38 

VII. Quando quegli assassini .... 39 

VIII. Ma ti cognosc'io ..... 4q 

IX. O fossi un'uomo ..... 41 

X. Quando io veggo ..... 42 

XI. Cara, pensava baciarti .... 43 

XII. Le ale portano ..... 44 

XIII. Tutto glorificando .... - 45 

XIV. Mi viene una notte d'autumno .... 46 

XV. Cercai la tranquillita della valle Tempe - - 47 

XVI. Quando torno dallo strepito del mondo - - 48 

XVII. L' ultima foglia 49 

The Lost Love ....... 50 

Good Deeds ....--- 59 



JOURNEY'S END. 
A lane I know whose grassy windings turn 
'Long two stone walls; there yellow buttercup, 
Wild aster, and the downy foxglove bell 
Grow in the close-cropped grass in unconcern; 
And when the dawn has called the warm sun up 
The morning dews upon hisi blades will tell 
The fires that in their crystal centers burn. 

And there are apple trees with laden boughs 
Where the mourning dove's all piteous moan 
Startles the quiet at the close of day; 
For 'mid their fragrant buds she builds her house 
And sweet tho saddest sings when now fordone 
The merry songsters leave their airy way. 
And calves are couched beside the mother cows. 

And to a farmhouse old this lane extends. 
Where a girl of brown eyes and dark hair 
Lives with delicate arms to welcome me; 
And in the rest her tendfer bosom lend^ 
Is happiness complete, and sweet despair 
From which no mortal would wish to be free 
W^hen such a heart such love so fairly spends. 



SONG. 
Up with the dawn gay lark 

That singest my ladye fair, 
As Phoebus sendls his dart 

On her chamber there. 
Sing the pride of the musies, 

Warble my lady's pride, 
Each one as he chooses, — 

She is my lovely bride. 
Flatter her fair tresses 

Brown as the chestnut burr, — 
No one but confesses 

How he would rival her. 
Sing her ever, blithesome lark, 
Bird of the blue, from dawn to dark. 



SONNET. 
Bright star that on the world dosit calmly gaze, 

Would I were far and fair and free as thou: 

There is no sorrow in thy peaceful brow, 
Nor weariness from treading earthly ways. 
Thy course eternal knows nor lets nor stays, 

And heavenly thou along thy path dost go; 

Death will not check thine ardent fiery glow, 
Nor cloud long dim the brilliance of thy rays. 
But a few years and T shall be no more: 

O for the wind's wings; let ambition ride 
And touch upon the farthest peopled shore 

That ever poet ecstacy descried; 
And all the soul in song and music pour 

In radiant beauty like thee this eventide. 



Fragments. 

I. ITALY. 
In Florence 'mon cher' we'll live by Arno's bank 
And watch the soft grey waters wind away, 
Or ride from bridge to bridge alone, — alone 
And loving, each by each, we'll foot the hills. 
Your sister shall, your brother too, live there; 
And living, ever loving, there we'll die. 
He'll woo a princess, she shall have a Duke, — 
We'll live, O Sweetheart, there till death. 



10 



II. SUNSET. 
Dark clouds impearled from the golden West 

Move fleeting night-winged, as they drift away 
Dreamlike, conscious, purposeful, in quest 
Calm watching; in their wake 
Along the deeper blue soft stars display 
A growing splendor, — now each to his rest 

Bird calls and whirr of wings spring-songsters take. 



11 



III. LOVE. 
He who has not felt thee burn his heart 
Under his lady's alcove late at night, 
Or felt thee soothing in his sweetheart's arms, 
Or known thee meek and kind in mother's eyes, 
Or felt thee great and strong, all glorifying, 
Fresh-poured from Christ's compassionate breast,- 
That one has much to seek and much to find 
If he would know the beauty of this! life. 



12 



IV. CORPORA CASTA. 
Beautiful thy marble columns, O Athens: 
Beautiful thy ruins ancient Greece, — 
Thy shrines and temples in Aegean Isles; 
But beautiful, only most beautiful 
The pure and upright heart whose chaste temple 
The body human and immaculate. 



13 



V. THEA. 
At even oft I've watched thee here at rest, — 

Here as I write, and wished to toucli thy hand, 
Numb'd at thy hair's faint sweetness, tired for thy breast, 

Plight in thy beauty, borne to thy command. 
But when I've thot to touch thee, ah! why pray, 
O lovely fair! pale you and turn away? 



14 



SONG. 

Hide O sweet those eyes that darkle 
Under thy great snow'y brow; 

Ban their little loves that sparkle, — 
Or but do thou tell me how 
I may 'scape their witcheries now. 

Take those lips whose rosy sweetness 
Lingers o'er mine eyelids here; 

Bury love their arch completeness, — 
Or the springtide of the year 
Must lay them tribute on my bier. 

And those sweets thy bosom bears, 
Love, can I alive endure, 

Or the thousand little cares 

That thy love doth me assure : 
Hath such love no other cure? 



15 



APRIL. 
April to me love art thou: 
Thy spirit pervading is blush for the -winter, 
Heighten'd in maple and apple tree-bough,— 
Poet of life, magic prophet, O minter 
Of all May and Summer and Autumn allow; 
If I could catch you sprite, and have you there 
With watery clouds wind-driven with an air 
Most fresh, — all gold and silver twixt sun and rain, — 
Kissing sound buds, and with your exquisite pain 
Teasing my heart, — nor leave your grass-plots green, 
Or first Hepaticas, half open, seen 
In pink and white and purple, and so faint 
Sense aches at their fresh sweetness, — oh then quaint 
Spirit of youth opposed in olden song 
Of love in accents of an antique tongue, 
I'd never let you go. 
But you are rare, 
Haunting me to tremulous mad despair. 



16 



EVE. 

Greatest, God, of gifts you give 

Surely is thj^ darling Eve: 

Wondrous-wrought and beautiful, 

Pure and good and dutiful, 

Eve, I ill can sing thy praise 

Tho I live it thru my days : 

Thou that taughtst me first to know 

True and false, and bliss and woe, — 

And the magic of thine art. 

And thy tiny beating heart, 

And thy loneness and thy fondness. 

And thy weakness, and thy wanness, 

Showed love was the fairest thing 

Of the gifts that thou didst bring. 

Thou being given to me, didist give 

Thy gifts and yet hadst more to give. 

Thy beauty passing gleameth there 

A soul that daily grows more fair: 

So find I heaven in thine eyes, 

In thine arms find paradise. 

Fair are the gifts thou gav'st and give. 

And greatest, God, thy gift of Eve. 



17 



SONG. 
Spring is fleet, but youth is fleeter, 
And spring once gone will come again, — 
But youth and all its pleasiures sweeter 
Than springtide passing and its pain 
Budding soon blossoms nor comes again. 



1« 



SAID COKYDON. 
Sweet heart mine, how more dear 
For Thee, each season of the year: 
When Winter breaks and Spring be come, 
Give thy hand, we'll seek our home 
Among the pretty-passion'd rills 
That lead to faery in the hills, — 
Where they leap the falls and play 
Music rippling, — there, where they 
Are fairest in the clustered yine 
And sweet with flowers, where fragrant pine 
Will check the north's unquiet moan, 
Our house shall pleasantly be done. 
And in its rose-embowered walls 
Sweet birds shall chant their madrigals 
O 'mornings when the grass is wet, 
Evenings as the sun doth set. 
And sweet, when hawthorne buds appear, 
And violet crowns each pensioner 
Of spring, — or fragrant on the breeze 
Shy flowers pry thru the russet leaves, 
We'll touch and see them where they grow. 
Bold Titan with his fiery glow 
Shall spend his kissing in brown plenty 
On us, — Oh, when sweet thou'rt twenty. 



19 



Sonnets. 

I. A WOMAN. 
I never loved a woman only one: 

Lovely she was and thereto very wise, 

And hers were quiet understanding eyes 
Whose wondrous depths held love for everyone. 
Among her fellows she had peer in none, — 

Yet never any with forged jealousies 

Would long against her kindliness arise, 
So steadfast was her course like heaven's sun. 
To her in reverence bowed I spake my love: 

Her love was greater and, with gentle voice 
So excellent in woman, she reproved : 

'Not yet her heart would make its earthly choice.' 
And when with tears and silence 1 removed 

Still there was room within me to rejoice. 



20 



IT. MARCH. 

Last night was bitter chill, with yet a taint 
Of some new mystery, some spirit band 
That with old winter- weather fast in hand 

Spoke softly in their ecstacy. A quaint 

Prodigious sight did I have too on faint 

And misty snowspread hills and clear'd woodland 
Of Wat who crazed seem: majestic, grand, 

He darkling sniffed the air, and with a feint 

Scampered and crossed as any genius maddened 

Of stump or fallow grey, whilst 'a oft outran 

Him.self, and halt as soon the gladdened 

Air to sniff, — then, madly as he can 

Caper'd in antic musitsi, — Mad-March-hare 

He was, today's soft thaw and breeze declare. 



21 



III. SLEEP. 
O tliou who hast been absent from mine eyes 

Pour round me now, and with thy magic fine 
Lull me to thy tender charities, 

Whilst constelled thine ardfent sisters shine. 
Thou dost kiss the ruddiness of youth 

WTien proud dreams sweep imagination far 
On mighty deeds of love, wherein no ruth 

Doth pity giant fierce or cruel bear; 
And dewy night thou visitest many a flower, 

And they do lock their sweetness up again. 
Whilst oft thou bidest thru a quiet hour 

Of healing a poor weary vagrant pain. 
Yet on the bearers of the cares of state 
Thou least dost tend, nor on the crowned great. 



IV. INTEGER VITAE. 
O God how dear to them their consiciousness 

Of self enshrined in upright heart and pure, 

How they may face into the future sure. 
While all their actions serenely express 
Their spirit knowing Thee, who freely bless 

Their praised deeds and countenance demure. 

And in thy impregnant bosom dost immure 
These heaven-right denizens in happiness. 
Yet have I seen others who sometimesi swerved, 

Failing the self-right course appoint by Thee, 
Who in the quiet of their hearts reserved! 

A gentle space where Thou mightst wander free : 
Those in their goodness Thou hast well preserved; 

These in the world have found) a home for Thee. 



23 



V. LOSS. 
Again depression grey has dulled my heart: 

Gone is the sweetness of the wanton spring; 
Her votaries have followed her apart; 

Now die the flowers more swift than blossoming. 
No more do children honor high the May, 

CTowned with budding wreaths in merry dance; 
Delicate the graces leave to play 

Along the breezes with all-artful glance. 
Where have they gone? O Spring, thou wooing time, 

How fair wert thou by that thee love did lend, 
^^Tien in the vigorous fragrance of thy prime 

I^ve in a thousand woodlands thou didst send; 
And love as sweetly kissed me on the brow, 
And left with thee by which I suffer now. 



24 



VI. EVENING AND MORNING-STAR. 
I woo thee star, one quiet summer's eve 

Thy mellow light may lead my true love here 
To yonder casement ready to receive 

The warmth and siw^eetness of her figure dear. 
And let soft music play o'er flowery lawn 

And orchard or a pleasant w^atered shore 
At that still hour when to their nests have gone 

All but the nightingale, whose heart doth pour 
Upon the middle night her even song. 

Full-wearied and with worldly care fordone 
Let me forget one moment I belong 

To men, — that I should ease their piteous moan. 
Of rest and wisdom let me find the sum 
Til thy fair sister of the morning come. 



25 



VII. ALL A SUMMER'S DAY. 
One summer's day I climbed a little hill 

And laid me down: aloft iridescently 

Sunlit clouds dreamed on the azure sky; 
Giants in tumbled locks the air did fill, — 
Antaeus earth-born, Hercules, — and still 

From Wales and dark iS^orthumberland stalked by 

Those mighty men of old: who holds the high 
Arched vault of heaven. Titans, demons shrill. 
But soon a gentle stir from heaven set 

These visions naught. I closed and oped mine eyesi; 
Old Valence and Beaucaire in battle met 

O'er lofty towers raised their grim battle cries; 
But Aucassin and tender Nicolette 

Sped thru the woods, one horse, two lovers wise. 



26 



VIII. PRIMORDIA. 
Long ere men's ingress on the fields and woods 

Fairies and fauns did populate the earth, 
And nymphs and dryads mantled in green hoods 

Habited stream and tree, and fearful birth 
Of demons warped the air, whilst giant fierce 

Shook with huge pace the trembling country round, 
And brownie tectors dwelt in the arrears 

Of cavern or dim gi-ot. Now none are found : 
All are gone, yet in this after day 

Along the ocean-shore their voice is hurled 
In hollow thunder; and the wooded way, 

Or stream remote, discloses an antique world 
To one in quiet there, — quaint menuet 
And faery delicately fabricated yet. 



2'< 



TX. SPRINGTIDE. 

O tlie dear sense of the darling spring: 

Her time is ever youth ^'ith buds and flowers, 
And for her voice the sweetest birds do sing, 

And for her tears there weep the little showers; 
And her bright chariot's on the south- wind set, 

And passionate springs her pure love down the dell 
By green grass banks and fragrant violet, 

Where pretty parks have each a tale to tell: 
They tell how in the spring two lovers wooed 

Within their closures by appointment meeting, 
How love was true, sufficient, fair and good. 

How youth like water-brooks or blossbm fleeting. 
How there they kissed neath aged apple trees 
Whose sweetness spring was scattering on the breeze. 



28 



Sonnets from the Seven Hills. 

J. 'lo sognai.' 
I dreamed I was a prince: unto me came 

From swartest Ind to vineclad Normandy 

All rlchesse and proud worth in homage free 
Of lovely princess and fair-dowered dame. 
And mickle entertainment did we frame 

To greet them in their wooings royally: 

Rich feast, grand tournament and archery, 
Music and mirth, or dance and play did claim 
The willing hours. Yet none of these I chose 

For jealous wife or pretty paramour: 
Among them one, pale as from cloister close, 

Of strange and southern sweetness moved me more 
Tlian they, — where love great-hearted glows 

In gentleness and beauty more worth than dower. 



29 



II. 'l^on richezza/ 
Not expansive wealth extent in lands 

With snow-capped mountains and dim valleys rich, 
Nor the fair proffer of high-dowered hands 

With eyes whose darting fires do bewitch; 
Not all the salvaged values Neptune's streams 

Hold neath the rondiure of his salt domain, 
Nor gold when Phoebus turns with glorious beams 

The ocean's blue to sands of golden grain: 
None of these could alteration bring 

In my fast vows of constancy to thee; 
Thru all the world my heart to thee will cling, 

Our love shall as the heaven be great and free. 
Loving to have a kingdom in thy heart 
More worlds I hold in fee than ever wert. 



30 



IIT. 'Fa sospendirmi/ 
Bring me reprieve howe'er so slight from care, 

And bear me far on dusk dream-wings of night; 

For day is gone, and stars aloft alight 
Like gems glance bright thru verdurous peach and pear : 
Haw-crickets drone their catch, and evening air 

Is soothe and balm, for seasonable his might 

The autumn sun paced slow and mellow bright 
Along his westtern steady thorofare. 
O love, the day goes whither all days go 

And with time's reaping what avails a plea? 
Will not thy sweetness blow, where all sweets blow, 

Thy beauty pass as daisy on the lea? 
Sweet sleep, I woo thee, lend thy snowy breast 
And in thy holy keeping give me rest. 



31 



IV. ^Mai si bella la terra.' 
Never was earth so fair nor life so sweet : 

Spring faces north again in rich attire, 
And dew upon the morning grass doth greet 

The mighty sun with thousand orbs of fire. 
Soft winds move sighing from the South or West, 

And a light fragrance wanders in the breeze, 
Whilst sing a myriad winged creatures blest, 

And woodlands call new pilgrims o'er the leas. 
This is our time love; waxen season wanes 

But our course tends no creature knoweth where, 
Tho in the quiet of these earthly fanes 

We feel a spirit permeate the air; 
And in our yearning hearts' immensity 
We know the promise that true love may be. 



32 



V, '0 in! qnando saresti partita.' 
O love when one day thou shouldst go from me 

To thy great spirit's call from whence it came; 
When, as I press thee close and gaze on thee, 

Thine eyes die in their last wild spark of flame; 
When I behold emerged from their mentor, 

Poised on the rondure of this universe, 
Each grace and virtue that thy form did center 

To make thee theme of music and proud verse : 
Then let love be a death who comes to me 

As faint as he is strong, and let him keep 
For us else broke the troth that still must be 

When free on vast eternity we leap. 
For our bond hearts are bound with love's strong chain 
That can not break tho death the bond do strain. 



38 



VI. 'La sua cava pgura tremulosa/ 
Her dear lithe form that trembled in my arms 

And on my shoulders drooped its head for rest 
Is gone, and with her all those budding charms 

That lovingly I to my bosom pressed. 
What are these arms for, love, if not for thee; 

And why shouldst thou be any-other-where? 
When thou art here, then how enhappied me; 

But when thou goest what a void is here. 
So winter bare on teeming autumn tread's, 

And memory sweet alone recalls the spring; 
So when the rose her purple chalice spreads 

Comes time and gathers bud and blossoming; 
Yet sense retains her fragrance in his heart 
And I retain the memory what thou art. 



34 



VII. 'Qimndo quegli asmssinV 
When these assassins level on my life, 

And thou dost hear the sullen solemn knell 
Bid to the grave the remanence of their knife, 

Whose gaping wounds drop at each rising swell; 
Or when they set me near a mighty falls, 

And on the world my final look bid make, 
And shove me past the universe's walls. 

Laughing how now my love will me forsake. 
O fools how jealousy lias reason slighted! 

Did they think heaven has no earthly sway, — 
Wlien I on earth for all had been benighted. 

Thou wouldst yield thee at an early day? 
Tliey knew thee not nor our on-earthly lot, 
And owning hearts therein tliey could read not. 



m 



VIII. 'Ma ti cognosc'io/ 

But I know thee tho others may not know 
What azure lids bound heaven in thine eyes, 
What sitar-like thots move there, how pure andi wise, 

Devout and holy, they to heaven do go. 

Thy gift is such that still more stronger grow 

Love's chains that bind me, as each even dies 
And fades upon the morrow, — such allies 

Hast thou I need must always love thee so. 

Could' it be else: Were I prince of faery. 

Sweet, thou shouldst be princess, — here on earth 

'Twa^ destined one be born to love thee dearie. 
And daily grow more worthy of thy worth. 

Thou dost light and guide me with such eyes 

To win aspiring, sunk in their silences. 



36 



IX. '0 fossi un'uomo/ 
'Vv'ould I were a man' thou long'st to be. 

Would thou wert, yet other than thou art 

I could not wish thee truly, dear, thy heart 
So wondrous and unprized has grown to me. 
Indeed, the space of man isl far and free; 

Yet few are they who live a great man's part. 

Hast thou no little feeling in thy heart 
Of some great spirit's calling unto thee? 
Who is that woman that can lead a man 

And gain him pardon at yon starry throne? 
Where is she w^ose love and goodness can 

Inspire his heart till heav'n and earth be won? 

And of all striving under heaven's sun 
What's more than to be woman or be man? 



37 



X. 'Quando io veggo/ 
When I see beauty crescent, once attained, 

Poise like a star at his/ eternal moment, 
Holding a thousand hues of heaven ingrained 

For the rapt gazer's sweet-despairing comment; 
When I behold him mighty from the goal, 

Swifter than meteor, die upon his wane, 
A bitter-sweet enanguishment of soul 

Doth as a death numb me with d<ull hearts-pain 
For thou art beauty's self and heavenly made. 

And when thou turnest what can comfort me, 
Seeing betimes thy beauty's rosfe doth fade 

As jealous seasons strive to ruin thee? 
Yet fade, an't need be, love, so great of heart 
Fade inly not, — still beauty is where thou art. 



38 



XI. 'Cara! pensava haciarti.^ 
Sweet I thot to kiss yon : no one knows 

I thot to kiss you, and you turned away; 

Nor auglit doth memory's dull pangs allay, 
So like toothed canker in the budded rose. 
Yet love, thy great soul lightened neath thy brows: 

Thou askedst me ^When others choose tO' play 

At kisses, should I restrain.' Another day 
Thou gavest what I sought once. But there goes 
In that first thot what beggars me indeed: 

\^'hat is done may none undo again ; 
So do bare thorns yield wounds that smartly bleed, 

So triumph bears along a heartsick pain; 
Perfection's marred, and all the lovely rede 

Of love is bitter thru one rueful stain. 



39 



XII. 'Lc ale j)ortano/ 
High fancy sweet her airy wings doth lend 

On days like this: far, to thy love's warm dell 
They bore me at the quiet even-end 

Along the temperate May-tide's dreamy swell. 
And O, to tell the numberless dear graces 

Of sinuous stream, of lawn in that fair dingle,— 
Of woodland flowers tliat gaze with frank full faces, 

Or half the cosy warmth beside thine ingle: 
Time to come would rate a poet mad 

Who chronicled such things, or sketched in rime 
Stories that the after dinner had. 

And yearning-souled tone-sorrows of old time: 
And did they read thee in my heart aright 
They'd say such graces ne'er graced living wight. 



40 



XIII. 'TtUto glorificando/ 
All-glorifying o'er the pendant earth 

The sun poured warmth and light that quiet mom, 
As Mary prayed before the tomb forlorn 
To ease her bosom's deep heart-aching birth 
Of sorrow. Since He died, how little worth 

The world seemed: He said He would be bom 
Again, alas! He said death should be shorn 
Of its dark dread : So thot she in her dearth. 
Then softly, tenderly a dear voice spake 
Beside her: 'Lo! 'tis I; be not afraid' 
And poured such balm upon her bosom's ache 
She knew Him. O so pure and holy made 
Of earthliness in death let my love take 
E'en such a kiss as on her brow was laid. 



41 



XIV. 'Mi viene una notte d'autumno.' 
One night comes to me in the autumn time: 

My call had come and I should off to war; 

Nor prayers, nor saints, nor angels could debar 
That current compulsive in the battle's prime, — 
God's work : they come now from the shop's dark grime, 

Or office, college, Oregon afar, 

And Maine or Florida, — no lack should mar 
Our nation's triumph, resolved to do, or climb 
The way to heaven. But ! Sweet you were there 

With friend and sister 'mid a thotful throng, — 
Some gay, some sad, some tearful, many a pair 

Watching the trains the river gorge along; 
And love and faith showed in your visage fair, — 
Your sweet small hand wa^ed, and my heart grew strong. 



42 



XV. ^Cercai la tranqnillita delta valle Tempe/ 
I sought the stillest nook in Tempe vale 

And laid me down to rest; the fierce sun there 

Made a green twilight in that palace fair, 
Vine-canopied; and largely did prevail 
Soft mosses or fine grass; and pretty frail 

Pale primrose filled all sweetly the arched air 

Of those vast halls, and feathery maidenhair 
Trembled on the forest's darksome pale. 
Suddenly soft music breathed around, 

And nearer, 'til three spirits joyous mad 
Broke from the forest, and to their sweet sound 

Procession of all folk that faery had 
Followed and kept a wedding on that ground, 

And after faery dances quaint they made. 



43 



XYl. 'Qiumdo torno dallo strepito del mondo/ 
Wlieii from the world's cares I haste me home 

I know a spirit there awaiteth me, 
Who thru a garden to the gate will come 

That in her arms I may full welcomed be; 
And she will speak of little Jack and Bill, — 

Many a thing those happy rogues have done; 
And after dinner we will climb the hill, 

And silent watch the quiet set of sun. 
We understand that I should agonize; 

Yet more across the heavens I'll write her name: 
Few win the guerdon of so great a prize; 

Few fires burn so sacrificial flame. 
Her great love spells redemption in those eyes 
Wherein I gaze and know is paradise. 



44 



XVII. '1/ ultima foglia/ 
The last leaf, sweet, — thru many summer days 

I've caugJit thee blades and blossoms from my brain, 
And sought to praise thee. In a hundred ways 

I've sought to praise thee, sweetheart, but my gain 
Is this: I cannot tho I love thee much. 

Thou art too dear for praise, all praise abates 
Thy worth and excellence; to muse on such 

As thou art one forgets what he relates. 
It doth belittle thee to aught compare, 

Save to heaven's rich creative art 
Filling heaven and earth with workings fair, 

Slow in swiftness, — and thy constant heart 
Is like to that its lights undreamed revealing, 
For love unsealed thy lips to speak Ms feeling. 



45 



TPIE LOST LOVE. 

O'er hill, thro' dale and park, thru wood, 
Fill'd with the raptures of the May, 
I wandered as only Zephyr could. 
Or fairies a-Maying in frolic mood, — 
All a bright springtide holiday. 

'Neath canopy of sfj^lvan green. 

On dry fall'n leaves of dark dusk brown. 

Glanced I, as moonlight silver sheen. 

When on dancing wavelets seen, 

Thro glades that May-sprites name their own. 

Ah ! the fountain's silver gleam ! 

Dasliing high, low, soft and loud, 

Source of this green soft-moss-bank'd stream, — 

I'll lie where Phoebus darts his beam 

And Vatch the lazy-pacing cloud. 

O, to move as dreamily 

As white-fleec'd cloud at eagle's height, 

Blushing pearl with Phoebus' eye! 

Far above the azure sk}^ 

Below the earth with wonders bright, 

I'd cool the peasant at his plow. 
Laying my shadow o'er his ground, 
Then he'd raise his freshen'd brow, — 
O'er cities lofty, busy now, 
I'd see their hurry, hear their sound. 



46 



THE LOST LOVE. 

Or folded in white shrouding sheet, 
Not dead, contented but to be, 
I'd wrap me airily in dreams sweet. 
Of knights, and lovely ladies meet 
Nobly to win at fierce tourney. 

I'd love to forge the thunder-flash, 
Vast, white, tumbled in the van 
Of coming storm, and rolling dash 
The bolt, met with the massy crash 
Of 'tillery and re-echoing pan. 

But rather to the deep blue sea, — 
I'd sport i' the winds at flap o' the sails 
And watch the ships cross ridingly 
The foamy deep, and chidingly 
I'd outrace them in the gales. 

Up ! up ! you've rested all too long ! 
Dreams sweeter far there be than this: 
Somewhere the violets dance in song, 
And fancies olden floating throng 
The mind with, storied tales of bliss. 

The soft green margent length I danc'd, 
Enticed w4th hope along the way, — 
When on such beauteous scene I chanc'd. 
Where everything was so enhanc'd, 
I gently kneel'd to softly pray. 



47 



THE LO.ST LOVE. 

A sinuous course the streamlet took. 
Till dashing down a merry fall 
A crystal lake was round out-strook, 
(lirt in by vines and trees, — the nook 
Inviting did with moss-lawn call. 

Thro' twice six feet I swept the air; 
The moss edge yielded velvetly, 
While woodland bower so bright and fair 
Received me: trees, vines past compare 
Closed in the nest with greenery. 

Folds serpentine of ivy hung 

In aptly fashioned canopies; 

The grape was neatly overstrung 

On huge, high oaks, where blithely sung 

Gay birds 'mid hum of busy bees. 

Here violets tent their ricb blue beds 
And meet the monstrous wood behind, 
Horrid and dark. Here bright sun sheds 
On rhododendrons, — purples, reds, — 
Above the spring: so warm unkind. 

Clear as a crystal harmony 
Sweet Arethuse inviting breathed 
From cool white pebbled depth a sigh, 
Received me with a gentle cry. 
Nimbly in her bosom wreathed. 



4^ 



THE LOST LOVE. 

Now languished on the moss I lie 
A moment, — then another dive, — 
Deep, deep, — I to the bottom ply ; 
O'erhead the lurking waters sigh 
And sparkling bubbles kisses give. 

In and out Echo tells tale, 
Laughing and playing in the wood ; 
Entwines me in her arms, more frail 
Than when Narcissus s'hunned her, pale 
Entreating him, unkind and rude. 

Ah, there he is, flower bright with gold. 

So meek and loving, pensive, sweet, 

"Does Echo court you, try to hold 

You in that former fond enfold — 

Ashamed you seem — No more nymphs greet?" 

With that I vanished in the lake. 
(O Arethuse! how deep thy bliss!) 
Then rising for a breath's intake 
What vision beauteous e'er could make 
My heart beat throbbingly as this? 

Standing on the mossy strand. 
To me inquiring — "Who art thou, 
O Spirit fair?" — she raised a hand, 
And with a voice as great and grand 
As Juno's speaking why and how ! 



49 



THE LOST Lf)VE. 

Yet witli a mien as Dian's pure, 
Mingled with love — "I, youth fair, 
No vision am, I do assure ; ' 
But maiden, as you see, demure 
Mistress of all, both here and there, 

This garden" — 'Entity enow! 
Permit me but that I enrobe ; 
And may I wander where and how 
It please with thee, and love bestow 
The rosy hours at our approbe !' 

Then turning, while I fast adorn 
Me in my robe of scented flowers, 
Words voiced in music welled heart-born 
F'rom her sweet lips, as on that morn 
God's spheric chime rang 'Joy to Powers.' 

SONG. 

Tod'ay the rose 
In beauty blows 
And honied breathes amid the vales ; 
Bees drink deep 

And they are sped, 
Loves asleep 

Her chalice red 



50 



THE LOST LOVE. 

Make their blissful little bed; 
Mortal spirit fainting fails 

Bitter-sweet love-nectar fed; 
For this, God's morning of the world, 
Is mine, and I with love enfurled 

Take the vast deep as blows 

In beauty today the rose. 

She sang t\\ining a tnyrtle crown 
For me (a like one spake her fair), 
Which, as I came and kneeled me down. 
She, laying back the wavelets brown. 
Girt on them, — ^O lovely I O fair ! 

Spirit paler than grass windswept 
On Neptune's misty yellow sea sands' 
Love spake. — A faint blush lightly crept 
'Neath her dark eyes, as Dawn surrept 
The rosy East, o'erpearling the sea-strands. 

To pen her fair ! 'twere aye defying 
Sweet rea>sion ; for in fabled storj^ 
Ne'er more beauteous being sighing 
For love was writ, or pale descrying 
The stars for love : to her was glory, 

As Dian's, when in her retreat, — 
Eurotas' pleasant shaded coves 
Or Cynthus' hill, Oreads meet 
At noontide, trained on dainty feet 
By her who more than goddess moves. 



53 



IHE LOST LOVE. 

Her soul spake love from southern eyes, 
Deep dusk glossy wells to lose 
One's beiag in — "Sweet youth arise,' 
She said, giving her hand, 'there lies 
A mazy way if we but choose.' 

Her hand pressed, lingered— - ( ah ! then die ! 
O love, when love feels love returned, 
And soul and spirit in either's eye 
Glow rapt, as fainting with a sigh 
The body fails to that breath burned. ) 

'O love! I faint for thee! Pray hear 
My prayer and save me e'er I fall. 
Essential wrought ! I fondly fear 
Thy touch of ecstacy so near 
Sooth wine of sleep's soft call.' 

She held me, kissed my beating brow, — 
As plodding o'er the broken glebe 
Nigh sunny noon behind his plow 
The peasant feels some breath doth blow 
A blessing both to take and give. 

'Sweet youth, this lily's snowy cup, 
Brim-filled o' coolness from the spring 
Renews thee, — drink ! anon, we'll up, 
Ho merrily, at length to sup 
The cell-stored sweets the seasons bring.' 



52 



TIIK LOST LOVE. 

As doth to airy nothing cling 

In August fairy gossamer, 

Which dusky spinners to seaward fling, 

O'er breathless Ocean way to wing 

Safely their course : so on sheer 

Exquisite joy for life too strong, 
Thro park, o'er brook, uphill, downdale, 
In garden out, bright bowers we throng, 
While hearts overflowing bursat in song 
Of love, soul-burning in spirits pale. 

SONG. 

A. O love thou art fair 

As morn's dewdrops bright. 

B. O love fair art thou 

As star to the night, 
When Zephyr breathes low ; 

So throbs Hesper with light. 

A. & B. O lovely, O fair. 

A. Thy breath is of spring. 

B. Thou breathest of flowers 
That nod o'er the heaths. 

A. As fresh after showers 
So the air my love breathes 
As we dance Tvdth the hours. 

A. & B. Thy sweet has love's sting. 



53 



THE LOST LOVE. 

A. How pure is my love? 
As May's bluest sky, 
As song of the lark, 
Heart born, heaven high. 

B. And mine ne'er death dark 
Shall dim, as yours high. 

A. & B. So pure is my love. 

A. O God, thou art love; 

B. Thy works are thy praise ; 

A. Thy clouds move above 

B. But they hide not thy ways. 
A. Thine be the glory ! 

A. & B. O, keep us our days, — 

A. & B. Thou art love, thou art love ! 

Singing we loved and loving sang, 
As two white lilies by the brook 
Sweetly nodding as they hang 
In springtime, 'mid the silver plang 
Of waters thru their crannied nook. 

Betimes gay hours had swiftly steeped 
Their fliglit toward eve : Soon even to morn 
Were gone : so centuries dark-heep'd 
Of minutes, hours, days, years, have deeped 
Vast-rolled eternities sans bourne. 



54 



THE I OST LOVE. 

The hour was come when at day's close 
All is peace and all is praise : 
Far off a lonely bullock lows — 
Beauteous all creation shows 
The splendor of the first of days. 

Ten thousand bird throats psalming God, 
Contented shout rapt virelays ; 
His three-years' child meets on the road 
The plowsman, — still man's dear abode 
Is good as on the first of days. 

Ten billion blossoms breathe for Him ; 
As many trees give fruit and shade; 
A violet at the fountain's rim 
Looks up, — His pleasure is the slim, 
Pure-hearted, tender, loving maid. 

And now the sun more mellow growing, 
Unsphered by hills, seeks ocean-stream 
To steep him cool ; solemn bestowing 
His even blessing, amber blowing 
Then dusk, the dome with softened beam. 

'O love, flushed Phoebus rolls him on 
O'er yon empurpling westward hills ; 
Or ere we know, fair day is gone : 
Seek we then some bower anon 
To cheat the Maytide's even chills.' 



55 



THE LOST LOVE. 

The way A\'ound o'er green kuolls ; 'mid dark 

liock-caverns hung with brushwood green^ 

To a steep-bounded stilly park, — 

A rood, a hollow — one could mark 

The clitif's tip 'gainst blue heaven's sheen. 

While at the edge the mighty fall 
Wreaks dizzy, and the torrential roar 
Of mountain-stream yields up the call, 
Wliile Echo trembles over all 
And dim the valley sways before. 

Dark solemn pines rose at their post : 
^^^e countersigned, passed by the guard 
Of stately trees^ — and lo! a host 
Of boughs full-blossom'd, — like a ghost 
Stood out inside a country yard, 

'O love, 'tis sweet in this warm nook, 

Wliere spirits olden quaint have wrought 

An antique order for some book 

Of romance; let me rest and look 

On thee — for faintness I'm unwrought.' 

'Good youth rest on this rustic seat : 
Soon I am back.' — The apple bloom 
Breathed languor thru the still retreat, 
And Zephyr-touched spread at my feet 
A snowy carpet of perfume. 



56 



THE LOST LOVE. 



'Here youtli is milk : a gentle pair 
Of swains I know have given me ; 
Their home is a mete haven there 
Where towers the rock; a goodly share 
Of honey and brown loaves have we.' 

We ate — 'See love, how lucent grows 

The Even-star as dusk creeps in 

The orchard boughs P 'How Zephyr throws 

The smoothy chalice. Deeply glows 

The azure : all is peace again.' 

'O love, thy hair's soft thistle down 
For brownness plays the chestnut burr' — 
*0 love, my fluttering senses drown 
With sleep — be fain to lay the crown 
Aside for me — and I prefer 

To drink deep slumber, drinking so, — 
In your embrace.' 'So rest good youth !' 
'Anon he sleeps, — and must I go? 
Alas, 'tis better parting so, — 
To dream, to kiss, awake to truth. 

But as a dream may this day be 

For thee, to vanish ere Apollo 

Has stol'n the dewdrops stealthily 

From all sound buds and greenery, 

And caught skip shadows from the fallow. 



57 



THE LOST LOVE. 



Youth ! youth ! White temple of sleep 

Stir not ! Goddess aid me now 

On Paphos, — oh ! one kiss as deep 

As first Love's I Soft diisk eyes that peep 

Twixt wake and sleep! farewell, farewell.' 

I dreamt warm-wrap't in her embrace; 
She kissed me at the cominj^ dawn ; 
Twixt wake and sleep I saw her grace 
IMelt into dew. Night's lovely place 
Is vanished, — and my love is gone. 

Waking found me lonely here, 
Lying on the mossy stones : 
The lapping wavelets of the mere 
Stir the sedges with their drear, 
Lulling, lingering monotones. 

Tho springtide's promise be in sheaves, 
And apples red-ripe fill the store, 
And the cool North 'gin stir the leaves, 
Yet will I seek for more and more 
The loss which most my heart bereaves. 

And so I wandier 'mid the hills, 
And search the rainbows of the falls 
For my lost love, whose grace distils 
Tn pearls of dew from sunny rills 
Nor deigns to list my softest calls. 



58 



GOOD DEEDS. 

As stars at night, 

As moonlight on crystal water, 

As dewdrops in light, 

As heroes 'raid slaughter, 

As flowers at spring, 

And spring in seasons, — 

So shines a good deed in a naughty world. 



59 



m.^^AR 




